Sunday 28 October 2018

Tormented since the Cradle

I read somewhere that Franz Kafka was convinced that he shouldn't write, because 'God doesn't want that'. Well, if you'd read his biography (Kafka's, not God's), you'd realise that he probably was transferring his feelings from his father to the Almighty. 

From my experience - of a writer and a child of bad parent - God is the first and sometimes the only Person on this world that wants us to develop our talents, simply because He gave us them as a gift to be developed. It is not in our parents' interest to see us thriving and being successful. Why? Because, in their crooked minds, such situation may cause they will lose control and they won't be able to do with us whatever they want (they are also jealous, mean or just stupid). Of course, not every parent wants to manipulate and control the kids... But there are also mothers and fathers who want to exploit the skills of their children - just look at some sportsmen and sportswomen, destroyed by sick ambitions of the people who should have took care of them instead of tormenting them since the cradle times.

But let's get back to Kafka. We share the same birth date and, unfortunately, the same conviction that God doesn't want us to be happy and to do what we love... And again - I need to verify this belief, for it is very unfair towards God and His plan for me. 

Saturday 27 October 2018


As I wrote in my book "Guide for (Ultimate) Losers", people who survived an abortion or were unwanted (so the abortion was an option), very often are damaged. The natural, given by God, right to live was challenged, just as it was in my case, also after my birth when I was abused, both physically and emotionally.

For the most part of my existence, I wasn't aware of the fact that I am constantly questioning my basic rights and that, in fact, I don't feel worthy of living. My all prayers had been starting from begging Lord for death, for I couldn't stand such a situation. Maybe I was asking for His permission and confirmation that I am worthy of something, not for terminating my life? Of course, as a Catholic, I felt guilty that I don't want to prolong my existence, allegedly the biggest gift of Almighty... But I had to be honest because only honesty had been keeping me in vertical. 

God didn't take my life nor He didn't send me a solution for my problem... I shared the fate of millions of souls from all around the world suffering the excruciating pain of mental illness. And I was trying whatever I could to find the cure. I didn't find it either, but I found the answers and Awareness. I've learned about causes, symptoms and ineffective treatments that cost billions. I read dozens of books. I wrote thousands of pages of my memoirs... I know. I understand. I am aware. I've changed my life. But I am not feeling any better.

There was however something that started brightening the darkness of my 'wounded brain': the actions undertaken by pro-life groups and movements. I felt, for the first time in my life, that someone is speaking my voice, the voice I didn't have. I saw how determined these people are, how they are defending life and that their arguments are logical and real. 

The pro-lifers save not only unborn babies, but they also save everyone. 

Friday 26 October 2018

Guardian Demons

Unaware of what I was really doing, I touched the gist of every mental illness. Only after writing and reading my last post, I saw that this is the fact: we, sick people, had been separated from our own 'self,' that's why I had the impression I live in two separate worlds. 

Every human being should be connected with each part of its own construction: body, mind, soul, memories, emotions... We must become our own owners. But we are not. The core of the existence is like owned by something else: havoc. And the real name of this havoc is LIE. We live far from our own truth. 

I will explain it by using an example. Ten years ago, on a regular day, I was going to work. I met a guy I used to love... And this meeting was the havoc as if some kind of tornado came through my body and mind. I was agitated, desperate, angry, sad, depressed, but also happy and full of hope (just as I was feeling when I met my father...). After that, I came to work and... everything stopped. I crossed the invisible border and found myself in the second world of mine, the 'normal' one. 

There are two things. First, I didn't know then that I had been constantly experiencing the emotions related to my biological father, because they were forbidden, I had to push them deep into my memories and pretend that I don't have them. Second, for over thirty years I was convinced that the world of havoc was something wrong, that I am a big failure since I still have it in my mind. And this is the essence of mental illness - this very lies. 

The same when it comes to my 'right' to live. I was sure I have no right to be alive unless someone else would give such permission. I wasn't wanted and I always knew it. I knew my mother considered me as a 'problem' or a 'burden'; she also was certain she is my owner and she can do whatever she wants with me, with my body, mind, memories, emotions, etc. She, and, later on, other people, became the 'guardian demons' standing on the border of my own 'self', forbidding me the pass. 

And the thing that pisses me off is that most of the so-called therapies and rehabs lead to the addiction to another Guardian Demons - therapists, doctors, family members - instead of showing us that the healing is when becoming free and independent human beings.

Tuesday 16 October 2018


At least a couple of times in my life, I experienced a very extraordinary situation in which I could see that, in fact, I live in two separate worlds that do not merge. One world represents the space in my brain that is responsible for the 'black hole' that leads me to suicidal thoughts. The second one is everything else.
Do you know what exactly is the world number 1? These are those scars on my amygdala made by my parents when I was so little that my brain was like soft wax which they could shape and change. These are the questions I asked and the answer was still wrong. So, in this world, I constantly ask the questions, I recreate the situations from my childhood, with the people who have the set of characteristics my parents had until I won't get the correct answers.
Leaving the world number 1 is impossible - I would have to deny my own self, for this is the core of my 'self' and I cannot simply stop being myself unless I intend to be a lunatic. But staying in this place also seems to be madness.

Well, I didn't leave this world, I just realized that its arrangement is wrong. I ask good questions and I should know the correct answers even if I don't 'feel' them. And I should try to rearrange the place. Both worlds need to be merged somehow. But I still don't know how...

A Good Life

As I wrote once, life becomes a big project of coping with daily-basis problems if you have mental health issues. It's not easy, for it ...